Retribution Forthcoming
by Salome Maranya
Summary: Ishida Mitsunari was not always a loser. At least in his wife's eyes. And she'd believe in him until the very end. From the time Hideyoshi gets sick till Sekigahara.


Amehime is an arbitrary name for Ishida Mitsunari's wife since I was not able to find her real name. The Western Commander is regarded as probably the biggest loser in all of pre-modern Japanese history, but that's not how he's portrayed here. Think Samurai Warriors Mitsunari with a S. Basara sword.

_****__**DISCLAIMER:**_ Mitsunari as a fictional game character by SB/SW is owned by the respective owners. Everything else is history.

_**Retribution Forthcoming**_

_One for all, all for one and heaven bless the land._

It was a fortnight after Hideyoshi Toyotomi had fallen ill. Ishida Mitsunari, who had been granted considerable power by the Regent, was deeply troubled. If his overlord were to perish on short notice, everything that he had obtained will be compromised. Moreover, several prominent retainers and other officials loathed his frank and strict personality. Trouble started to stir among the government and although obtaining support was proving difficult, he was determined to take the helm in Hideyoshi's stead.

Amehime, who rarely discussed anything, much less spent time with her husband, found herself sitting across him every evening, without any clear idea why he kept summoning her in the first place. But she humored his desire for a discourse nevertheless.

"Say you bring end to the war," she suddenly brought up on the tenth night, "then what?"

Mitsunari rolled his eyes. They had been conversing for over three hours by then. "Peace of course. I daresay you despise pointless bloodshed even more than I, do you not?"

_That was not I meant, _was what she planned to reply, but instead managed a gentle smile and said, "I certainly wish for the conflicts to end. Lord Hideyoshi had almost made it, but his health-"

_BAM._

The young general slammed his fist on the floor, causing his wife to jump up in surprise.

"The failed conquest of Joseon had sealed his fate before he realized. If only I-"

"My lord, please do not bear the blame!" Amehime exclaimed, beholding his downcast countenance. "If you were so keen to grasp such glorious goal, despite the risks, I would not dare stop you."

"No," he said, "if my ambition leads me astray, hold onto me and pull me back."

The intensity of his gaze and those words…so sincere yet so powerful, how can she argue? It was as if she was just beginning to discern who he really was.

"A-as you say." And she was shocked all the more when her ferociously stoic, straightforward husband pulled her by the hand towards him. As she lost balance, Mitsunari caught her in an embrace that caught her entirely unprepared.

"And let us drop all these formalities," he whispered, "If we keep this up, the children will not feel our _love._"

"B-but," she said, trying to free from his grasp. Something which he would not allow

"Hush, Ame. Time waits for no man. I may perish tomorrow without cherishing our bond…" He then held her stiffened shoulders at arm's length, but was so dangerously close she could smell the sake from his breath…and see her own reflection in his eyes. And then he was closer and closer still.

"Lord Mitsunari!"

He decided that he had enough.

"Complain no more."

_Was he simply waiting for the opportunity? _"Oh!"

* * *

Things were not going well.

Amehime heard Mitsunari sigh for the fifth time that day. He had barely touched his meal when he resorted to gazing pensively at the ground.

"By gods, what are you doing?" she asked, "You must eat to regain your strength!"

She held the bowl of rice towards him and would have said more, had he not beaten her to it. "_Their _strength overwhelms us," he said, taking the bowl from her hands and setting it down in front of him "even my greatest allies…I know they are being swayed."

"By Tokugawa Ieyasu?" That man had spared Mitsunari once, but to the latter it matters not if it meant preserving his status (and perhaps remaining loyal to the will of deceased Regent).

He nodded. "Our defeat is inevitable."

"Is there no other means, my lord?"

"There is no more! I have failed…"

She can no longer stand seeing him suffer so. Day in and day out, he would be meeting with emissaries, pleading for allegiance and receiving the denunciation of his many enemies. Much of those she could not interfere with. Overwhelmed with emotion, she clasped his hands and brought it to her face. "I apologize for my uselessness," she said, sobbing afterwards. "All I can do is to be here...but I promise to remain with you through whatever. I promise…"

Ame bowed he head and continued to cry. _If there was only something…the children are not even mine to take care of!_

He never expected his wife to have cared so much for him as women of the age generally had little attachments to their husbands. Likewise, men treated their wives and daughters merely as bearers of possible heirs and bargaining pieces. He was no exception. But that was changing. At that time when he was at the verge of losing everything, everything started to matter.

Her having freed his hand, he reached out to wipe her tears. "What would I do without you," he was truly grateful, "Thank you, Ame."

* * *

_Keichō 5, halfway the 9th month_

Ishida Mitsunari, supreme commander of the Western Army, was preparing himself for the final battle. "My lord," came a call from the door, "you have called for me?"

"Ame." The voice jolted him from his reverie. "Enter." And she did, looking as radiant as always. She dressed simply this time and refused to be applied cosmetics.

All the composure he had strived to maintain up until then wavered before her, "Y-you see, I wanted to…well…"

She managed a smile, anxious as she was, in an attempt to raise his spirit. "What seems to be the matter, my Lord Sakichi?"

"Sakichi?" he asked, momentarily perplexed.

"My, my, has all this fighting deprived you of your memory?"

"Ah," he said, suddenly remembering his childhood name, "of course not. Who do you take me for, woman?"

She laughed and neared him. "And my husband has come back to his senses. May I inquire why I was summoned?"

He cleared his throat, "I want you to fit me my armor."

"I would be glad to," she began preparing his armor. "After all, this is a first."

"And if I were to err, this could also be the last." Her cheerful demeanor faltered.

She began to attach the pieces onto him, albeit rather ungentle. "What is vexing you? You are not going to war to be so stingy," Mitsunari finally spoke, trying to face his wife.

"Remain steady my lord," she said, prodding his shoulder to turn him back, "And do not speak. You are distracting me."

He complied for the time being. After all, what good would arguments do before a battle?

Silence pervaded for half an hour, then "Finished."

Mitsunari faced Amehime, "Someday, this conflict will end and a new era will begin. Until then, I must fight."

She looked at him, "I shall wait for your return."

As much as the battle has proved a farce, Mitsunari had willed himself to prepare for the worst. And it has come. Outani Yoshitsugu had committed seppuku after Kobayakawa Hideaki's treacherous attack. Sakon Shima proved ineffectual; Shimazu Yoshihiro was no exception. The other Western commander, Mouri Terumoto, did not cooperate as expected. His generals were defecting by the day.

Everything was falling apart.

He had been selfish and unheeding of the affairs of others. They hated him. Dreams of having friends, being less strict and more _affectionate _beganinvading his thoughts. Perhaps if he endured this struggle he would allow himself to change for the better. Thus, he made one last attempt to survive. As he reached Mt. Ibuki, the enemy had caught up. He was then brought to Rokujōgawara in Kyoto, the execution ground.

"You…you rob me of my allies, isolate me and then reproach me for my want of brotherhood. Make sense of this hypocrisy if you even dare try! Ieyasu!" Mitsunari cried out. There was nothing else he could give. Not a blow. Not his pride. It took much of his strength to merely speak.

"I'm sorry Mitsunari," he heard Ieyasu say, "but for this land to prosper, for all the bloodshed to end, I must do this." He poised for the attack, "Farewell, my friend."

A clenched fist coursing with power raced headfirst into the hapless Western commander. The latter had nothing to counter with but a silent cry of defiance. As his sight blurred, he saw a glint. Then there came the strike of a blade. _Ame, I'm sorry. I won't be home tonight._

_Splatter._

And then-

_Thud._

Nothing.

* * *

The children will have asked '_where is father?' 'When will he return?'_

But he is no more. No more can she hold him, feel his touch. She could no longer comfort him, rebuke him and persuade him to eat when he worries too much and neglects his meals.

It had been days since the news reached her ears. No one dared stop the general's wife when she decided to set out to Kyoto.

The person to whom she vowed eternal loyalty, even when his allies readily switched sides and left him suffering, is gone forever.

The pelting rain was relentless, yet she pursued forth. "He must be eager to rest…" she muttered, eyes puffy and bloodshot from tears and exhaustion. "Where are-"

"Ah." There he was, at the center of the clearing, on display for all to see, for then to mock. He was, after all, reduced to a mere Tokugawa spoil of war. _How dare they treat my treasure like trash?_

Yet he seemed so…at peace. Eyes closed to the cruelty of the world. He would not shiver from the cold nor will he ever feel the warmth of the sun. But at last, he will worry no more. He will not feel the pain. It is over at last.

Amehime stood precariously, and then approached him. Closer and closer she went, arms reaching out to the decapitated head of Ishida Mitsunari, commander of the vanquished Western Army.

"There you are, my Lord Sakichi," She held and raised him ever so gently, careful not to deal him more damdage, "my poor, poor husband."

For a brief moment, she wistfully imagined him stirring and saying sweet, loving words to her. Melodious giggles resonated in the splattering rain. "Well, let us head home," she said, cradling the remains of her late husband. "I shall prepare a meal and a hot bath for you…"

She walked away, leaving an empty pike, blood mixing with the water and cascading towards the earth.

_Just you wait, my lord. Their time will come. But for now, I insist that you rest…we'll soon be home._


End file.
